Before Morning in Irving Hall
by KatyRose4
Summary: To escape from a blizzard, Anthony Higgins stumbles into the back of Medda's theater. He meets Jack Kelly, and tells the story of how he ended up on the streets.
1. Meeting Jack

**Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies**

The snow was everywhere, falling down in giant clumps, through the night sky, and across the city streets. Usually it was crowded, but no one in their right mind would want to go out in such a storm. Unfortunately, for people like me, who didn't have a home right then, you didn't exactly have a choice.

The snow was up to my knees and I could barely move. I didn't know where to go, but I knew that I couldn't stay outside either. Not a single store was open and even the lamplights seemed weak. Everything was shutting down, and I was stuck in the wrong place.

I put use to the little energy I had left, trying the door of every single building or structure. No such luck. My fingers were numb with frostbite, and moving them was nearly impossible, but I didn't want to spend another minute in the storm.

Finally, I came to a door that pushed right open. I fumbled inside, tripping over my own feet. It was so dark that I couldn't see anything. I didn't think I was allowed to be there, but at that point, I didn't care. I wasn't going back outside. And there was no one there to get me in trouble anyway.

My cheeks were still stinging from the wind and my brain felt like jelly, but I managed to crawl to the back wall. The cold had seeped through my jacket and into my bones- everything was hurting. I was so tired and exhausted, and my eyes could barely stay open. Unable to move another step, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, the room was significantly brighter. The sun wasn't up yet, so it was still difficult to see, but my hideout was finally visible. From the looks of it, it seemed like a sort of back room. There was a staircase, and some ropes were hanging on the walls. And someone was sitting in front of me.

At first I was a little confused, because I was still groggy. I could tell that he was probably around my age, but a little taller. And for some reason, he wore a cowboy hat. "Hello," he greeted. I didn't know what to do so I just nodded and sat up. "I'm Jack." Neither of us said anything. There was a thick silence. "Do you talk?"

"The name is Anthony," I replied. "And yes, I do."

"Then can you tell me why you're here?"

"Why are you here?" I still wasn't sure if I was allowed in the building, and I didn't want to give anything away. In fact, it would've been a smart idea to leave (just in case.) But, like Jack, I was curious.

"It's freezing out, I wanted to get indoors, and I know the owner here. And I asked you first."

"Same as you. I had no place else to go." I hoped that Jack would be the kind of person to understand that. We may have been in the same situation, but he belonged here, I didn't, and he could've taken advantage of that. He reached into his pocket, took out a piece of bread, broke it in half, and gave a piece to me. I could tell he was that kind of nice person. "Thanks."

"You're a street kid, aren't you?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just do."

I sighed. "Well if you want to know, it's kind of a long story."

Jack looked outside. It was still bad out. "Well we got time. Go ahead."


	2. Racetrack's Story

I lived with my mother, father, and little sister Adriana in a tiny one-room apartment, a situation I'm sure many people have to deal with. Papa worked at a shoe factory for most of the day, Adriana and I would go to school, and Mama would stay at home to do chores. Money always seemed to be a little tight, which became a big problem when she got sick.

The first day Papa told us, "Your mother's not feeling well, so please try not to disturb her when you get back from school today." Usually in the mornings, she would be up cooking breakfast. It felt odd, seeing her lie down on the cot (even though it wasn't the first time I had seen her like that.) I didn't think much of it, because like I said, it wasn't anything new. But then, things got worse.

Usually, when she gets sick, she's up again by the next morning, sometimes by the night. But she stayed in bed the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that. Adriana and I didn't go to school anymore, so we could do her chores. Papa still went to the factory, but I knew that he really didn't want to. He must have been worrying about her all day. But still, missing work would've meant losing his paycheck, so he had to go.

After about a week, he called for a doctor. He had medicine that could help, but it cost a lot. I didn't understand much about money, but I did know that the medicine was more than we could afford. When Papa was talking to the doctor about it, there was this look in his eyes that said he was going to get it no matter what.

I was worried, of course, because I didn't think it was a good idea. I didn't know, and I didn't want to think about, what would happen if we ran out of money. But, he was the adult, and I thought that he knew best. Even now I question whether his decision was right, but I don't think there was any changing it anyway.

Later he told us that he would be out late for the next few days. Sometimes he would leave to play poker with his friends in Midtown, or go off to Sheepshead Bay, and I figured that that's what he was doing. He came home that first night with a lot of money. He got some good food, and he had the medicine with him.

But then the next day, he came back with nothing. He seemed to be upset about something, but I didn't want to press on the issue. He already had enough to worry about. He was talking to Mama. She was asleep, but he was talking to her anyway, saying that he was going to fix everything. I knew that he would. Or at least hoped he would. I'm not entirely sure what had to be fixed, but I don't think it ever worked out. And either way, things weren't okay. The medicine didn't work, and that night, Mama died.

And then about a month later, I woke up to a loud banging at the door. Papa seemed scared, and when he opened the door, I could see why. The man looked terrifying. "You still owe us money. It's been three weeks," he said.

"I know, I know, but if you just give me more time," my father pleaded.

"There isn't any more time. I've been reminding you over and over again."

I slithered out through the fire escape and down to the streets. That guy made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't spend another second there. Honestly, I was scared too, and I wanted to leave in case anything bad was going to happen. I had some pocket change with me, so I bought an apple, and spent the day and afternoon wandering the streets, just thinking. I was anxious, but I couldn't stomach the idea of going back home.

The sky was already getting dark by the time I decided I was ready. I was going to go upstairs, but one of my neighbors outside stopped me. "Um, hi, Tony," she began. "There's no easy way for me to say this, but…your father is gone."

"What?"

"I didn't see him leave for work this morning, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay because of the…recent events." I guess she didn't want to mention my mother. "The door was left open, and when I walked in…I saw him dead on the floor. I'm sorry."

"And what about my sister?" I blurted out.

"She wasn't there."

"Oh."

"I'm so, so sorry Anthony."

"Well I guess I have to go look for her then." I left. And no, I couldn't find her.

When I finished my story, I heard someone walking down the stairs. It was a lady with an elaborate yellow dress and big, curly hair. "Who's down there?" Jack stood up. "Oh, Jack." She gave him a hug. "So nice to see you." Then she noticed me. "And who's this?"

"Anthony," I replied.

"Ah."

Then Jack introduced me to the woman. "This is Medda. She owns this place. And she's a performer, one of the best." I nodded. "What are you doing here?" he continued. "Isn't it still snowing out?"

"I walked. The show must go on!" she chuckled. "It's actually not snowing anymore. But there is a lot on the ground."

"Then I guess I can leave then." He waved goodbye, and I followed him out. "Where are you going?"

We stopped. "I have no idea." I couldn't go back to the theater- I didn't know Medda well enough. My only option was to stay out in the cold again.

"You can come with me if you want." I said yes, and thanked him, grateful for his offer.

He took me to a building, with a big sign on the front that said, _Newsboys Lodging House._ I hadn't planned on staying for long. I thought that I was only visiting. I ended up living there for seven years. I missed my parents, I missed Adriana. But I still had a family, in Jack and my new friends.


End file.
